Like This
by nezstereo
Summary: Series of oneshots about Captain Amelia and Dr. Doppler at various times during their relationship.
1. Types

First chapter, yay! If any of you read my first story (now deleted), I just want to say that this one is probably actually going to have updates, because I actually enjoy writing these little chapters. Basically, each chapter is a stand-alone story, unless I specify otherwise, and there may be some jumping around, but I'll tell you all first, so no worries! So, enjoy this first chapter (looking back on this one, I think I've shown I know nothing about poker...).

Treasure Planet I own not.

Like This: Types

The Captain sits directly across from him, her eyes closed, slowing peeling an orange in one continous spiral. Her wrists move in small circles, exacting and perfect. She looks deep in thought.

He stares at his own pile of citrus scented peels, and at the wooden deck below them, and through the deck, and suddenly he's off in his own world.

He wonders if what happened on Treasure Planet meant anything. He wants desperately to ask her, ask her about everything, but the instant she heard they were to stay in space and wait for clearing, she had gone straight to her stateroom, and fallen fast asleep, clothes and all. He had pulled a blanket over her, and crept out of the room. She had emerged about four hours later, and had sat down to join them in eating the last of the fruits from the galley. He and Jim had been stammering excuses, hoping she wouldn't kill them for eating the food from _her_ galley, on _her_ ship, but she had simply given them both a bleary-eyed nod of acknowledgement, and then flopped down with a sigh, grabbing an orange, and proceeding to slowly peel it. She had remained silent, and for the most part, they all had. It was as if what had happened to them on Treasure Planet had brought them closer to a higher understanding of one another, and each knew there was no need for any words at all. They had nothing to say.

He heard someone speaking to him, and shook himself out of his reverie. He turned to Jim, and smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I was thinking...What was that again Jim?"

The teenager grins at him, and holds up a deck of cards.

"We should play poker. I know we don't have money, but..."

He turns to the Captain, and she opens one eye.

"I, ah, well, gambling...Captain?"

She's wide awake now, rolling her eyes, and moving so she lies on her stomach. He sees her wince, and then smirk.

"Don't be a prude, Doctor, honestly, it's a game. Or are you afraid of losing to a teenage boy and an inured woman?" She looks at him, smiling in a way so genuine, so happy, he knows he can't refuse. Perhaps...he doesn't even have to ask where they stand. Perhaps...he can simply allow things to run their course.

He mimicks her action, and lies on his stomach, moving so they sit shoulder-to-shoulder. He smiles.

"I think you should be afraid...What kind of a captain loses to a bumbling astropsyisist?"

The Captain, and Jim both laugh, and they commence the game. Jim deals out cards, and then pauses.

"Wait...we don't have anything to bet. And, no offense or anything, but I don't really feel okay playing strip poker with just you guys..."

He feels his cheeks redden, and Amelia is chuckling next to him.

"Ah, well", she bites her lip in thought, "At the Academy...we would bet one truthful answer to any question the winner asked. Or two, or three, and so on...Or we would bet favors, or chores..."

Jim grins. "Yeah, let's do that. Scared yet, Doc?"

They play, and he get's what he thinks is a good hand. Jim bets first.

"I'll bet two moppings of the deck, and...help wrapping up the rigging."

Amelia whistles. "Confident in those cards, Mr. Hawkins? I suppose I will bet a truth, as it were, and...the permission to steer the ship into docking position, with my help of course. If I win...I simply get to steer the ship myself." Jim perks up, and Delbert sees he wants to take the helm. He glances at his own cards, and frowns.

"I'll bet a truth...and I'll deal with the Robocops when they show up for the mutineers."

They show their hands, and Jim curses. The Captain has won. She grins, victorious.

"I suppose you'll mop the deck after a few more rounds, then, Mr. Hawkins?"

Jim groans. She turns to Delbert, and he feels like she's looking right. through. him. He gulps.

"Doctor...I believe you owe me a truth."

"Y-yes?"

"Mmm." She taps her chin in thought, and then smiles wickedly at him. His stomach turns upside down, and wonders what she could ask...what she could pull from him...

But instead she folds her hands and says:

"I think I'll save that for later." She looks at him, eyes glittering, and a wave of nervous excitement washes over him. What could she want to ask, that Jim can't hear?

Jim is eyeing them suspiciously, but he collects the cards, and deals again. He says he'll help clean Delbert's attic, and Amelia simply bets another truth. When it comes to his turn, he folds, and Jim scoffs. Amelia is silent, and her face is completely void of any expression. He imagines that if they were playing for money, she would be winning. She has a perfect poker-face.

Jim wins, and whoops in victory.

"No offense, Doc, but I really don't wanna clean that attic. It's...pretty bad. I mean, couldn't you hire someone to clear it out?"

"Jim..." he says, "Those items are pricless heirlooms. I couldn't sell them. I suppose I don't organize it enough..." At this, Jim snorts. "But, I believe that that is what attics are for, aren't they? To store clutter."

Jim shakes his head. "Yeah, but...you whole house is clutter, Doc."

Amelia looks at him, questioning.

"Is it really all that bad?"

Jim nods. "Captain...it's horrible. You'd be shocked, I swear, it's--"

"--Due for some cleaning!", he cuts in, grinning. "Now, Jim, I believe the Captain owes you one truth."

Jim looks at him, and then the Captain, and then smiles.

"Okay...Captain, what type of guy do you go for?"

Amelia's eyes widen, and he feels his cheeks heat again. She's frowning, and she sets down her cards.

"...Hmm. I am simply not going to ask why you want to know this, Mr. Hawkins, and to be honest, I can't say I could answer that question fully. I've dated all sorts of types..."

His heart is sinking every second, and Jim's still grinning. "Really...", he says, feigning deep fascination, "Like what types?"

She tilts her head, and absently twirls a lock of her fire-red hair.

"Well, mostly spacer-types. Naval officers, but they're too egotistical. I cannot stand that. If I had to say what qualities I like...I would say that he would have to be a good listener...and..." She stops. "It's hard to put into words...But..." A slight blush taints her cheeks, and he stares at her. It's the first time she's ever shown embarassment. She looks down at the deck, and smiles softly.

"Someone...who I could relax with...and forget the stress of my job. Someone who calms me down, and makes me feel...peaceful." She waves her hand, as if to dismiss the words. "It's a load of romantic nonsense, of course, but--"

Jim smiles, and winks at him before reshuffling, and dealing again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jim is almost done with his first round of mopping when Delbert hears the soft click of the Captain's boots against the wood of the Legacy's polished deck. He is resting his elbows on the railing of the navigation area, looking down onto the deck as Jim works, and he turns to his left to see her walk up and join him. She smiles.

"I haven't asked you my question yet, you know."

He nods slowly. "I know."

"Do you want to hear it?"

He sighs, and nods again. "...Yes."

She leans forwards, and says:

"Would you like to have dinner with me? Sometime soon, after I get medical attention, of course. You see, Doctor..." She leans even closer, and her breath is on his face, and they're inches from kissing, and he can feel his heart hammering in chest...

"I quite fancy you..." She whispers it in his ear, a secret. She might have won his confession, but she's given him so much, with those four words...He smiles broadly.

"To answer that question truthfully...I would absolutely love to, Captain." He rests his hand on hers, and she lets it stay there. He leans in, and whispers back:

"I...ah...I'm quite taken with you, as well."

She smiles, and it's like she has a special smile just for him ,because she only ever shows it when he's there. And he knows that this is the start of something. The start of what, he can't say, but...

He knows it's something wonderful.


	2. Seeing the Sights I

This one is about three weeks after landing in the Spaceport. I'm not sure if it's at all connected with the previous chapter (probably not), but it could be. This is part one of several chapters containing this little story, so...enjoy!

I do not own Treasure Planet.

Like This: Seeing the Sights part I

He was dozing in his library about three weeks after the voyage to Treasure Planet when he heard the loud knock on his door. He sat up from the couch, and glanced at the high windows to the outdoors. It was raining unrelentlessly, with no mercy, and many had opted to simply not venture outside until the storm had subsided, and with this in mind, he had to wonder exactly who in their right minds would show up at his door during such a rainstorm. He walked briskly to the front doors, and opened them to reveal a completely soaked Captain Amelia, dressed in a long black overcoat, carrying an umbrella that had done nothing to shield her from the torrential downpour. He let out a sputtering sound, and realized only then he was still in only his flannel pajama bottoms, and a white shirt. He felt his cheeks redden.

"C-captain? What are you doing here, in this weather, and...you're wet."

She steps into the foyer, and shakes the umbrella out on the porch steps. She rolls her eyes at him.

"Yes, it's raining. In case you didn't care to glance out your window this morning to see what all this ridiculous...noise was." She covers her ears (which he always suspected were hyper-sensitive) to demonstrate her point, and pulls off her coat, her expresion softening upon looking at his attire.

"I am sorry if I woke you, Doctor. You seem like you just stumbled out of bed...And your hair..." she laughs, and his hand goes to his head, and he feels it sticking out in places.

"Actually, I'm afraid I'm here for business, despite the added perk of getting to visit the esteemed Doctor Doppler, and see his sprawling home. I'm here to collect the paperwork, and monetary payments that fananciers are to fill out " The tone of her voice is teasing, but she looks impressed as she looks around the room, an expression of admiration on her face. "It's lovely, by the way. Your home."

"Ah, thank you." He takes her coat, and hangs it it the coat closet. "It's rather big, for just me, but Sarah and Jim are staying until the Benbow is rebuilt. They're out, now, though." He adds this as an afterthought, and sees her lips curve into a mischeivious smirk for a split second, and then she simply nods, her expression suddenly neutral. He reassures himself that he was just imagining it, and leads her to the library. As they enter her expression is one of wonder at the high ceilings, and bookshelves, and then, absolute horror.

"It's...Doctor, this is an organizational nightmare."

He laughs nervously, and scratches the back of his head. "Yes, well, I've been meaning to tidy up. I did clean it, it was worse before...I know exactly where everything is, and that's what really matters, I suppose."

She shakes her head. "I shudder to think of how atrocious it was before you, as you put it, 'cleaned it'."

They walk to the fireplace, and the small circle of comfortable chairs, and couches around it, and he sits back down on the dark red one he had been sleeping on just minutes ago. She opts for a dark green high-backed chair next to him, crossing her legs, and folding her hands in her lap. She coughs, and then smiles.

"So, tell me Doctor, if you know where everything is located in this disaster area you call a library, surely you must know where the financial papers for our voayge are?"

He's startled by both the formality, the teasing remark about his library, and her question. He actually wasn't quite sure, exactly, where the papers had gone to, although he knew them to be somewhere on his desk. He gulped, and stood, striding to the pile of papers sitting atop the dark mahogany piece of furniture.

"O-of course I do. I simply, ah, have to locate them, in the general area I remember placing them." He pushes his glasses up on his nose, and leans over the stack of folders. Amelia is studying one of her meticulously manicured nails, still sitting cross-legged in the chair.

"I do believe I delivered them to you in a blue file folder, Doctor. In case you can't locate them."

"I _can_, I mean, I know where they are, I just...Aha!" He pulls out of a sea of spilling and rustling papers, holding up the navy blue folder like an acheologist after discovering gold. She claps, an expression of mock-amazement on her face. He walks back over to the fireplace, holding a pen, and drops back onto the couch. She takes the folder from his hands, and opens it, gasping dramtically.

"Doctor, you didn't sign any of these papers." She fixes him with a pointed look, half reprimanding, half amusement. He grabs the folder back, flipping through, finding (as she had) that he truly had not signed or filled out a single one of the forms.

"I-I...I'm so sorry, it must have slipped my mind. I get so forgetful, I...Do you mind waiting while I fill them out? It won't take long, I assure you--"

But she's waving the excuse away with a flick of her hand, and she snatches half the papers in the folder, and pulls a pen out of her pocket.

"It's quite alright, Doctor, really. I'll fill this half out for you, if you assist me in putting down the information, and you will fill out the other half."

He whistles. "Well, you certainly get things done efficiently." He takes up his own pen, and looks down at the paper.

FINANICIAL INCOME (per year, in Royal currency):

"I have my own share of papers to fill, you know. There's always a form to put your information on. Forms for employment, forms for getting your payment, forms for repairs on the Legacy, form for the cargo to transport...It's absolute hell. Of course, it's a bit better than the forms you have in the Navy. You had to sign one just to go up on the rigging. That's one of the reasons I resigned, you know, signing all that. It's beauracracy, and I despise it. There!" She sets one form face down, and smiles at him. "That one was about your employee, actually, which would be me, and considering I've done loads of these in my lifetime, it doesn't take much to finish..."

He writes while he listens, but he too is done with his first paper, and puts it on top of hers slowly, and with great ceremony. She applauds again, and they laugh. They work in silence for a few minutes before he feels a need to hear her speak, and decides to ask a question he's been wondering about for two months, since they met.

"So, ah, Captain, why did you quite the Navy, anyway? I mean, you were a decorated officer, you had respect and obedience from your subordinates, no mutinies to speak of...Why would you want to leave that?"

She pauses in her writing, and looks at him, as if trying to find an ulterior motive for the question in his face. She sighs.

"Well, one reason was the beauracracy. Another reason was that, believe it or not, there were quite a few superiors calling for me to resign."

"But...but why?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps it was because I was a woman, and they felt it to be the end of Naval conduct as they knew it. But, to be completely candid about all this, I would have to admit that I was something of a delinquent."

He shakes his head. "No." She smiles, and nods.

"I was difficult to keep under control. I don't like taking orders, Doctor, I like making them, and to have those old men telling me how to run my ship, how to conduct myself...I hated that. It's what won me my medal, actually. The only reason I managed to save those ships was because I deliberately disobeyed orders. But really, I resigned because I didn't like the rules they forced me to play by. With free-lancing, the jobs are easier, and much more varied. I don't deal with nearly as many irritating peers, and I get my own ship, and crew. The pay is excellent, and I have the freedom to take vacations, rest, anything I like. It's better suited to how I like to live, you see."

"Oh. So, are you, ah, taking a vacation anytime soon?"

She blinks once, twice, and her expression doesn't change in any way. "I was contemplating it, yes."

He moves closer to her, and their knees touch. One, two layers between their skin. He leans close to her.

"And have you considering where you were going to go on this vacation?"

She blinks again, sitting back in her chair, creating a distance between them. His heart does a flip, and he curses himself for being so bold. She scratches her chin, as if in deep thought.

"You know, Doctor, I haven't considered it. Although, that was my other reason for coming here today..."

He sits up straighter, now at attention. His heart is beating fast in his chest, and he's telling himself that he shouldn't dare hope for anything, shouldn't think...

"Yes?"

She coughs into her hand, and then looks at him, shyly. "I was wondering if you would like come stay at my flat, for a few days. I recall you saying you hadn't ever really seen Montressor Spaceport, so I thought perhaps you would like me to show you the sights...?" She ends it as a question, but he doesn't need any coercion. Yes, yes, a thousnad times yes, he wants to say, but settles for a "I would like that very much."

She beams at him, the first true smile she's shown all day, and leans towards him. Her lips touch his cheek for a moment and then they're gone, and she's standing up, telling him she has to go now, and that she'll call him sometime soon, and reminds him to have the financier's paperwork finished when he comes to visit. She's gone and out the door, and he sits on the couch in shock, touching a hand to his cheek.

It takes him a minute to realize there's a neat stack of finished paperwork on the chair where she sat, as if to say, hurry and visit.

Hurry, so that I can spend time with you.

He hums songs for the rest of the day, as he cleans and organizes his study. It needed a good cleaning, anyway.


	3. Facts

Hello! This is a small update, but I've been pretty busy with school, and my birthday coming up this Monday (the 22nd!). So, as a peace offering, I give you this.

It has nothing to do with the "Seeing the Sights" arc, and to honest, it's a one-shot that could be put anywhere. So, enjoy, and review!

Like This

Four: Facts

She doesn't quite know what to think...when she thinks of him, and then feels the twist of her stomach in a way not entirely unpleasant. She can't understand how he could possibly be as perfect for her as he is, and she can't quite comprehend the magnitude of her feelings for him. He's very hard to read at times, when he decides to be, and when his lip juts out just so...and his eyes shine, and he whispers something, pleading, she cannot resist, or refuse, or ignore. His hands know exactly where to slide across her back, and his kiss is soft, then full of need. She oftens catches herself wondering about the motive behind his actions. He is a mystery to her, an enigma, and being a perfectionist, she can't resist the challenge he poses. She wants more than anything to understand him.

All she does know is that when she opens the door, and he's standing there with a smile on his face, and a box of take-out, suddenly everything that irritated her that day washes away like it had never been there.

She feels completely comfortable around him, and whenever they are together, she feels a sense of home, something she's never felt.

She knows with every time he holds her hand, or kisses her, she is falling more and more in love with him.


	4. Seeing the Sights II

Hello again. I realize the last story was a teeny bit short, and so, in retaliation, I'm throwing a super long one at you now. BWAHAHAHA. Well, not that long.

This is the second part of Seeing The Sights. It's introducing one of a small group (very, very small) of OC's I have in this whole thing: Jonathan, Amelia's older brother. Also, in this entire fanfic, Amelia's last name is Valefor. No idea why.

I wrote this on different days, in little segments, so if it's not very consistent, I'm sorry. I also apologize for any spelling errors, I type really fast, and mix up letters sometimes. I probably won't be updating for a few weeks, because I have my birthday tomorrow, a huge math exam, an essay for Intensive English, my little brother's birthday on Wednesday, Phoenix Wright: Trials and Tribulations coming out, Dir en Grey's new single, and my birthday party this weekend. So, I'm gonna be busy...

Enjoy!

Like This: Seeing the Sights part II

She was stepping out of the shower when she heard the knock on the door, and realized with almost panic (she never panics) that the Doctor was arriving today. Cursing, she pulled on jeans and a sweater, and rushed through the hallway into the coat room. Opening the door as fast as possible, she found him standing there, looking less ridiculous than he had on the day they met (the old fashioned spacesuit hadn't been very effective in leaving good first impression, although it had amused her). He smiled shyly, and shifted on his feet in a way she secretly found adorable. Not that she would ever, ever admit to that...

She bows dramatically, and gestures for him to come in. He does so in a slow, cautious way, as if entering a place of legend, or a library. He turns in slow circles, looking at the wood paneled walls, and the sliding wooden door.

"The coat room." she says, by means of an introduction. It's a small square room, with coats hanging on hooks, with several different pairs of her boots sitting below. Through the sliding door, left ajar, is the living room. He nods, and unbuckles his own boots, removing them. He looks at her with a knowing smile.

"You don't want to track dirt, do you?"

"Absolutely not." she replies, smirking. It's rare she finds humour in her own erratic behavior, but for some reason, she is perfectly all right with him poking fun at her (if only a little). She pushes open the sliding panel to the living room, and hears his footsteps following her. She turns to see his jaw slacken just so, in amazement (perhaps because it is incredibly clean, unlike his own home, or because it is full of various items brought home from her voyages), and watches as he moves in the room. The living room itself has maroon carpeting that covers a large square in the center of the room, surrounded by wood floors on all sides. Directly across the room from where he is standing is a sliding glass door to a small balcony overlooking the Etherium, and to his right and behind him is the kitchen. He's looking at the photographs on the bookshelf, a fascinated expression on his face. She walks over to him, and looks over his shoulder.

The picture is of a human woman, of about thirty or so, with long flowing red hair, and bright green eyes. Her hands rest on a small felid girl's shoulders, and the child has a shy smile on her face, looking older than she actually is in the high-necked black uniform. The two are sitting on a bench near a fish pond in a lush garden, on what appears to be a cloudy day. He turns to her, his look questioning.

"My mother and I."

His eyes widen for only a second, and then his gaze returns to the picture.

"She's very pretty. That's...that's really you?"

The small girl has a look of almost sadness in her green eyes (that match her mother's), and the smile on her face is almost not there, as if it only just snuck its way into her expression at the last second. The black uniform is almost like that of a soldier's. Amelia nods, and runs a finger over the two figures.

"I was six, in the picture. That's our garden. My grandfather is very enthusiastic about Zen gardens, and he commissioned it to be built when he became our family's Head."

"So..." Delbert says slowly, cautiously, "Your mother is..."

"A human? Yes. My siblings look like normal felids...Black hair, and golden eyes, but I inherited my mother's

eyes, and hair. Everyone in the main house loved her, because she was beautiful, and treated everyone with respect. My grandfather disapproved of my father's marrying her, but he grew to love her like a daughter."

"And now?"

Amelia remembers, as she always does, the funeral, with her mother in the casket, and fires around her blazing. There's a priest saying something about the flames purging all blemishes, allowing her to become completely free, but even at age eight, she knows its a lie. She doesn't cry.

"She died." she whispers. "She's died when I was small."

His hand in on her shoulder, and he looks at her, soft brown eyes saying so many things without words. She feels better just looking at him, and she squeezes his hand, as to reassure him she is alright.

"It happened a long time ago, Doctor. I barely remember her."

He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. I'm very sorry, Captain."

She puts the photograph back it its place.

"Well, then, let's show you your room, shall we?"

He nods, and is once again following her as she leads him through a hallway (same wooden walls, and floor) to another corridor with three doors. She points to the center one.

"That," she says, "Is the restroom."

She points to the left door.

"That is my room."

This leaves the right, and he moves to it first, waiting for her until he opens the door onto the guest room. It's walls are white, and bare, and the carpet is also maroon. There's a bed, and a dresser, and a large stack of boxes on the far wall. She smiles apologetically.

"I've been meaning to get rid of some of this rubbish, but I have been very busy, as of late. I hope you won't mind."

"It's not a problem at all. The ah, room is nice."

"It could use some decorations, yes. I'm actually not here often, if you can believe that."

"It doesn't surprise me at all."

"It doesn't?"

"No. I assumed you loved your job."

"I do love it. But I enjoy other things."

"I know that, I--I didn't mean to offend."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Yes, Doctor. I was merely teasing."

He breathes a sigh, and she is pleased to know the power she has over him. She sits in the chair on the far side of the room, and watches him flop down onto the green bedsheets. He inhales, and then turns to look at her.

"This whole place smells like you."

Her nose wrinkles, and she frowns. "And what, pray tell, does that smell like?"

Rolling onto his stomach, he props himself up with his elbows, his chin resting on his hands. "Peppermint. And some sort of sweet smelling flower, I think." He taps his nose. "I, ah, I can smell it from here, on you. Is it a perfume...or...?"

"I don't really know. I cannot say I ever smelled that, but it may be that I'm used to the smell."

He nods, understanding. She stands, and stretches out on the bed next to him, mimicking his position and propping her chin on her palms. He's stiffened next to her, his face hot, and she leans in closer. He exhales quickly, nervously, and she pulls back, a look of victory on her face.

"You, Doctor, smell like old books. Old paper. And...some sort of cologne. Did you put that on for me? I'm flattered." His face turns a deeper shade of crimson, and he struggles until he's looking her in the eye.

"I--It's probably the jacket. I wore it last to a party, and...But, I did wear it because I thought it was nice. The old book smell, well, I spend a lot of time with books."

"The jacket is nice."

"Thank you."

There was a long silence. Finally, Amelia decided she couldn't tolerate it, and, searching her mind for a topic,

spoke.

"So, tell me, Doctor, what would you like to do now? You're a guest, after all."

He stared at her for a moment, as if surprised by her question. "Well...It's rather late in the evening, isn't it? I think...I'd very much like to spend it with you."

Her eyes glittered mischievously. "You'd like to spend the evening with me, mm?"

Eyes widening, his pressed his face into the bed with a groan, as she laughed.

"Must you..." he whined, voice muffled, "...twist my words like that? It's really embarrassing, Captain."

She puts an arm around him, squeezing his shoulder.

"Doctor. I am sorry, I simply find it quite easy to tease you. I do it only for my own amusement, I assure you."

He lifts his head. "Really?"

"Yes."

They lean in, and she touches her forehead to his. They can feel the other's breath, and she wants so badly to kiss him, and...

There's a loud banging, and someone (a man) utters a curse.

"DAMMIT, dammit. Amelia! Where the hell are you?! Ame-eeeelia!"

She reluctantly pulls away, groaning loudly.

"Oh, damn. Doctor, it completely slipped my mind, but my brother is staying for a few days. He'll be gone on Friday, but...I'm sorry, I didn't tell you. He's quite irritating, you see, and--"

"AMELIA!"

"I'm coming, Jonathan! Honestly." Giving him an apologetic look, she storms through the door, with Delbert following. A tall felid stands in the living room, arms crossed, his foot tapping on the floor. His hair touches his shoulders, and his eyes, a gold color, glint behind horn-rimmed glasses. He's grinning, and his eyes slide lazily over Delbert, and then back to Amelia.

"Well, well. I didn't know your dear doctor was here already. If I had, I mightn't have made a stir, or tripped up that ridiculous stair in my hurry to get here. As it is, I simply wanted to bother you. I'm starving, do you have anything to eat?"

She purses her lips, her face a struggle to keep calm in front of Delbert, who has his mouth open, mouthing 'Your brother?' as he stares at the man who claims he is Amelia's brother.

"So, you're saying, dear brother, that you interrupted me because you wanted to irritate me, as always."

"Yes, dearest, littlest sister. That is exactly what I'm saying."

She walks up to him, grabbing a book from the bookcase, and dropping it with a _thwack_ onto his head. He yelps.

"That hurt. Really it did. I'm so distressed, dear Amelia, at your anger towards me. I'm simply doing my brotherly duties. I'm supposed to bother you, you know."

She stares at him long and hard, and then reaches a hand up to massage her temples.

"Well, you have succeeded in giving me a headache."

Turning to Delbert, she gestures to Jonathan.

"Doctor, this is my imbecile older brother, Professor Jonathan Valefor."

"Whoo." He whistles, "Really, Amelia, you make me sound so official. And I already know dear Doctor Doppler. We went to school together."

"You WHAT?"

She then whirls to face Delbert, who grins nervously.

"We, ah, were acquaintances, yes, but you're two years older...We didn't talk that much. I really know him from the University, Captain. I give lectures there sometimes..."

She has a shocked look on her face, and she whirls again to look at her brother, who's still smiling.

"As I said, I'm starving. Now, if you two will allow me..."

Dropping a messenger bag onto the carpet, he strides into the small kitchen, opening the fridge. She follows, and Delbert leans his head around the door.

"You never mentioned him." She looks at Delbert. "Neither of you..."

"I didn't make a connection between you two until now..." he says, still a little nervous around her.

"I did, but I love infuriating her, so..." He smiles at Delbert. "It's quite fun, to make her angry."

He sits at the round table in the kitchen's center with a package of meat, a purp, bread, and milk. Amelia sits on one side, and he sits on the other.

"I'm not angry, Jonathan, just surprised."

Her brother shrugs, and then bites into his newly made sandwich. "So...",he says through a mouthful, "What are you two doing tonight?"

She frowns. "I never got an answer. Doctor, what are we going to do?"

His face is tinted pink again, but he smiles weakly, relieved that she isn't angry with either of them.

"I...I have no idea. I'm actually quite, ah, tired."

Jonathan smiles wickedly. "I think I should tell you all about Amelia's childhood, Delbert. Every single embarrassing--"

"No. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Both men whine, and she sighs. Somewhere, deep down, she knows that she isn't going to win.

"...If you insist."

The two of them grin, and Jonathan stands up to get the photo albums. She groans.

It was going to be a long night.


	5. Meeting

Yay for updates! Woohoo! This one is an idea I've had in my head for years now...

What if Amelia and Delbert HAD met before Treasure Planet? Briefly, of course, but it's sorta romantic, in its own little way.

Also, I wanted to thank all my reviewers, watchers, and the users who added me as a favorite author. You guys are what keep me going (that, and energy drinks), so I just want to say thanks!

Enjoy!

five: Meeting

He wouldn't remember the moment until she mentioned it, years after it had occurred, and he hadn't put the pieces together until the words had come from her lips:

"I used read in the University library all the time. I'm surprised that we never met until now, come to to think of it..."

She had laughed, and he had laughed too, until he had returned home (after kissing her goodnight), and had sat in his study, reading. And then, suddenly, the light had come on in his head, and he had remembered.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

He was nineteen years old, which would have made her only sixteen, when it had happened.

A rising star in school, he had immersed himself in studying and doing the schoolwork, not because he wanted to succeed (although he did), but because he loved doing what he was learning to do. He was learning how to do things he had always wanted to do, in order to become an astrophysicist, which he had always wanted to be.

He was in the library often, sometimes with partners, or a friend, but more often on his own. He didn't really come there to study, or do schoolwork, however. He went to read for pleasure, and what he loved most were the adventure stories. He would sit, sometimes for up to an hour, deep in his thoughts as he read about distant planets, and battles against pirates. He longed for it (even then), but knew, if he was being realistic, that he could never amount to anything in space; he was a land-locked scientist, and that was that. So he comforted himself by reading the stories, learning them, and loving them.

He was walking through the aisles with three books in his arms, his bag slung on his shoulder when he saw the girl first. He stopped just short of the comfortable chair he usually sat in, his usual spot. There she was, a tall (almost as tall as he was), dark haired felid girl, dressed in a longcoat (black), with worn out boots (also black). Her eyes are a deep green, beautiful, and this is what he notices first. The second thing he notes is the book she's reading.

Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson.

He laughs, and then coughs quietly, and watches for a reaction. She looks up for the briefest of seconds before returning to her book. Smiling again, he sidles up next to her, and says:

"I, ah, see you've picked the same book as me. Is it any good?"

She remains silent, and he concludes that her countenance is as dark as her clothing, and unchanging. He sits cross-legged on the floor a few feet away, and opens his own book, shooting her a stubborn glare that she does not acknowledge, or react to.

They sit in silence for a few hours at least, and he forces himself to read the same paragraph at least eight times. He's fuming, and any attempt he made at conversation has been ignored, or answered with an unpleasant glare. Finally, she glances at her wristwatch, and then there's the sound of leather in the chair, a sigh as weight is removed, and the rustling as she gathers up her bag, and adjusts her coat. Just as she's about to leave, she turns, almost as an afterthought, and deadpans:

"It's really quite good, if you can make the attempt to understand the language."

Her accent only serves to make her more mysterious, and he watches in amazement as she glides away.

They meet only a few more times, and they never say a word to each other.

He never really wondered about her, and assumed she was gone, married, or somewhere far away.

Slowly, he forgets. Until one day, she's gone.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

She mentions dying her hair black for a few years during the Academy, because she wished not to be recognized as a Valefor. She also says she was "a complete teen-aged girl, absolutely hating everything".

But it's only now he remembers, only now he realizes that they shared the same love of adventure, the same stories. Who knew...who would have thought?

She's quite different now, but he expects he's different too.

When he tells her the next time they meet for lunch, she bursts out laughing, and says:

"I remember now! Ha, you really tried to force me into conversing didn't you? Oh, I'm so,

so sorry, Delbert, I was so horrid...Although, somewhere in my sixteen year old brain, I sort of fancied you. If I hadn't, I suppose I would have threatened you."

He laughs, and they hold hands one the way to her apartment, where she shows him all of the old books. He runs his hand down the spines, remembering dreaming of going off and seeing the galaxy.

Maybe it was fate, perhaps it was just a coincidence. All that matters now is that they are together, and although the moment was a memorable one, he cannot say it compares to any of the ones they've shared now.

_It pales in comparison to this_, he thinks, putting an arm around her shoulder. She smiles, and he smiles back.

It may seem insignificant, but to them, it is perfect.


	6. Rude Awakening

Yay, I return yet again, with another chapter (it's pretty tiny, though).

This takes place within the story of Seeing the Sights, but it's kind of small, and the last chapter is going to be long enough without this little bit, so I'm adding it as its own chapter. .

Sort of a humorous moment between Amelia and her brother. He's pretty annoying, come to think of it. The ending part of this story was an idea I've always wanted to put into a fanfic, but never got to. I think it's darn cute, and it's by far my favorite one to write so far, actually.

Enjoy!

Six: Rude Awakening

He wakes up at seven the next morning to the alarm he set for himself. Knowing Amelia well enough to know that she woke up extremely early, he had decided to make a good impression (at least, he hoped it was a good impression), and wake up at this time to join her.

He walked into the small kitchen, past Jonathan's snoring form on the fold-out couch in the living room, expecting to find her there, already finished with breakfast and the paper. Instead, he saw light streaming through the small window above the sink, and the plates from their late-night dinner.

Last night had been fun. He had had fun, especially with Jonathan there to tell him more about Amelia as a child...Amelia had sat on the couch denying most of his claims, sipping at a glass of wine. Jonathan drank far too much, and he supposed he had drank his share as well. He and Amelia had resorted to lifting her brother onto his temporary bed, because at last he had passed out. She had then bade him a quick goodnight, and retired to her own room, and he had followed, feeling sleepy himself.

There was a groan from the living room, and he turned to see Jonathan sitting up on the couch, putting his glasses back on, and running a hand through his messy black hair. Jonathan turned, and grinned sleepily.

"Hullo, Delbert. What time is it...?"

"About 7 in the morning."

He let out another groan, and pushed his head into the pillow. Muffled, he asked: "What are you doing up so early, then?"

"Well..." he began, "I thought that...that the Captain would be up already..."

Jonathan frowned, looking up at Delbert. "You still call her that?!"

"Y-yes, I mean, I'm so used to it, and..."

Amelia's brother grins, and his eyes sparkle. "Delbert, I mean this in all seriousness, because I do love my little sister: She really fancies you, and if you called her by her name, well...I would love to see the look on her face. So, next time, call her Amelia, mm?"

Delbert feels his head nod, and he smiles weakly. "If you say so, Jonathan."

"I DO say so!" He sits up, stretching. "And another thing...Amelia won't be up for ages...So if you're tired, I suggest going back to bed."

"But--" He stammers, folding his arms across his chest. "She was always up so early when we were on the Legacy."

"Exactly." Jonathan waggles a finger at him. "Y'see, she's really not much of a morning person, my sister. She wakes up so early so as to set an example, and to get things done, but when she's on land, she sleeps, and sleeps...Of course, it may hafta do with that injury. But she really does sleep quite a bit. Say..." He scratches his chin, smirking as an idea forms. "Fancy waking her up now?"

Delbert feels his stomach turn, and he cannot even imagine how angry she would be...

"N-no, I don't think--"

"Oh, c'mon!"

And before he knows it, Jonathan is dragging him down the hall into Amelia's bedroom. Pressing a finger to his lips, Jonathan points to the four poster bed on the left side of the room. Delbert enters the room quietly as possible, craning his head to see the room.

It's messy, surprisingly so, with clothes thrown about the room, and stacks of books piled in places on the floor. A large wooden desk stands on the far wall, with a huge comfortable looking chair. Papers pile on its surface. There's a few posters, including a navy flag similar to the one flying on the Legacy's mast on the wall. He smiles despite himself, and feels a twinge of excitement. He's in her room.

Turning, the two of them lean over the bed, over her sleeping form.

She's tangling all up in the green blankets, hair sticking up in the back, her face a peaceful expression. Traveling lower, he feels himself blush to realize she's wearing only shorts and a tank top. Jonathan nudges him and whispers:

"If you're going to ogle my little sister, do it when I am not present, please." Which of course makes Delbert blush more.

She stirs only slightly, and Jonathan pushes him out of the way, leaning over her ear, inhaling a huge gulp of air...

"WAKE UP LITTLE SISTER! WA-AAAAAAAKE UUUUPPP!" He screams it, and in less than a second Amelia's sitting bolt upright in bed, yelling right back at him:

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Jonathan's on the floor, on his knees, giggling madly, and Delbert's standing there, staring at Amelia, and then Jonathan, and back. Amelia looks, for lack of a better word, like an extremely frightened cat. Stiff backed, she's panting, eyes widened. Finally she manages to croak:

"What-what the hell, Jonathan?! Was that truly necessary?!"

"Y-yes..." He gasps between laughing, "Absolutely, yes."

She smacks him upside the head with a large book on her nightstand. Turning her eyes towards Delbert, she smiles.

"Good morning, Doctor. I apologize for my brother, and I must request you attempt to discourage this kind of behavior from him. It's very bothersome for those of us who prefer not to be scared to death whilst sleeping."

Sliding out of bed, she grabs her brother by his shirt, and pushes him outside, closing the door. She scrambles back into bed, muttering curses as she wraps the blanket around her like a cocoon. She buries her head in the pillows, and there's silence for a few moments before Delbert speaks.

"Ah, Cap -no, I mean- Amelia?"

There is a quiet, muffled noise like a gasp from the form wrapped in blankets. He feels a sudden surge of happiness. _She did like it._

"Y-yes, Doctor?"

"Should I, ah, leave, then?"

Silence again. He stands there for what seems like forever, before she sits back up, staring at him. She grabs him by his t-shirt, and pulls him down next to her.

"C-captain?! Captain, I really don't--"

"Sleep." She commands, wrapping both her arms around his middle, burying her face in his back. She sighs contentedly.

He cannot move, or breathe for several moments. He tries to say something, anything, but finds he can't. He spends a while trying to find a way to escape without waking her, only to find her incredibly strong, and unable to pry free from. He lies there, face hot, as she breathes.

'It is warm...And comfortable...' he thinks, and relaxes.

Finally, he falls back to sleep.

AN: Aww. Okay, so next update will probably be "Seeing the Sights III". I'm working on it right now!

Read and review is always appreciated!


	7. Seeing the Sights III

AN: Here's the final chapter of Seeing the Sights. Sorry if its a bit inconsistent, I wrote it in little bits and pieces, so...

At this point, I wanted to respond to some reviewers comments. Thanks to all of those who review and support me, I appreciate it so so so much, you have no idea.

Commander Zucchini: Firstly, your penname is awesome. Jonathan's characterization was not intended to be based on Sirius, but now that you mentioned it, he's turned out that way, hasn't he? You'll see more of him in later chapters, which will hopefully expand his character a bit more.

Whymeemolady: Thanks for the review. I am a chick, but I use dude a lot too, so I totally understand. : )

Last thing, TO ALL READERS: In this fic, and any other I will eventually write, Amelia's last name is Valefor. I don't know why, but that's what I came up with, simply because I really don't think Smollet should be her last name (no offense to those who use this). It doesn't sound good to me, so I made up my own name.

Enjoy!

Like This: Seeing the Sights part III

She wakes up late, as usual, and at first, thinks nothing of the arms around her waist. She only sighs, and presses her cheek into his shirt...His...shirt?!

She jolts upwards, and lets out a loud curse.

"D-doctor?! What the--"

He's sitting up, rubbing his eyes, and yawning in a way she finds comical and cute at the same time...She is momentarily distracted, and then, snapping back into reality, she grabs him by the neck of his shirt and shakes him.

"Doctor! Doctor! What on earth are you doing in my--"

Then she remembers, with a flush of her cheeks. He is also blushing, looking at anywhere in her room but at her face.

"N-never mind...I--I'm...I am...so sorry, I--I'm very...very tired...Or, I--I was...I mean to say, Doctor, that...I did not mean to make you...uncomfortable, and--"

He mimicks her, waving his hand in a gesture that says its no problem. But it is, she thinks. It's...we cannot simply ignore this.

"It's not really the first time you've done it, so..." he's saying, a laugh in his eyes, as he scratches his neck. She frowns.

"When did I--?" she pauses, then recalls the few hours on Treasure Planet, when she fell asleep on his shoulder. "Oh. Yes, well, that was...It was different then, I mean, it wasn't..."

"It's reall quite alright, Captain...I was embarassed, but...I wasn't...exactly, entirely opposed, so." He coughs, and she smiles apologetically.

"Again, I--I'm very sorry. I can so upfront, sometimes. It was my brother, he...You both woke me up."

He nods slowly. There is a silence in which she contemplates where this could go, now. He's staying with her for three more days, and Jonathan is leaving this evening, so...Three whole days of just them, walking around Montressor spaceport...She doesn't want to seem too forward, and she certainly does not want to repeat this incident, and make him uncomfortable. She wants him to see that she will go as slow (or fast) as he chooses, but she also wants him to know she expects the same from him. She takes his hand, and with her other hand, tilts his head so he looks her in the eye.

"Doctor." she says, and makes sure to use her captain's voice, to make sure he listens.

"Yes?"

"I...I would like to know where we stand, right at this moment. I realize you and I...well, there is obviously something, but..."

He presses two fingers to her lips, and smiles in a rouge-ish way.

"Captain...Yes. There is definately something there, and, well, I hope I'm not being very bold when I say right now that I would like nothing better than to be more than just your financier."

She laughs, and runs a hand up his arm. Her heart is beating fast, and she feels dizzy with happiness. He wants to be with me, she thinks.

"I wanted to make sure, you know. Thank you for assuring me we are on the same page." She leans in, until they can feel each other's breath, and then moves expertly over his legs, and onto the carpet, flashing him a dazzling smile before she walks down the hall into the kitchen.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Exactly what are we doing today, anyway?" he asks as he laces up his boots, looking up at her, already dressed in a black sweater, with dark blue jeans. She frowns.

"Actually, I have a few errands to run, before we can have any fun at all." She fakes a pout, and he laughs, standing up and rocking back on his heels.

"Let's get going, then."

She nods, and they walk together, down the stair to the ground level of her aparment building.

It hangs off the edge of the spaceport, not two blocks away from where the Legacy docks. Bridges connect it to other buildings, and throngs of people swarm across, eating and talking and yelling. Delbert is sure he has never seen so many different people.

It's hard to keep up with her when she takes long strides, and it's even harder to keep track of her in the large crowds. She turns and waits for him to find her again, ever patient. They stop first at the large, domed building that is the spaceport's most noticeable landmark. It's a bank, and office buildings, as well as the center for recieving pay from voyages, and finding new work. It's called the Nautical Relations Centers, but everyone he's every known refers to it simply as the Nautical. Visible from any part of the huge city, Amelia turns, and jokes that if he gets lost, he should simply go sit with the small children at the Nautical's center for lost children. They walk up several flights of stairs to recieve an envelope, and a large goldenrod file, both of which Amelia slides into her messenger bag.

They go to a small market area next, where he watches various merchants arguing with customers over price, and quantity. Amelia heads straight to a short, tentacled man with squinting eyes, and a graying beard. He huffs, and speaks in a language that Delbert doesn't recognize. He watches as the two talk for several minutes before the alien produces a small slip, and instructs her towards a large hangar. She thanks him.

Once they get there, he finds out that they are here to purchase paint, for the Legacy. It takes only a few more minutes of talking for her to shake hands with a worker, then they both stride out of the hangar.

"One last thing..." she says, smiling. "Have you enjoyed yourself so far? I know it's quite boring, I'm sorry."

He reassures her that he has been having a good time.

He has. He's never seen such a varied place, such a city. They walk into an old-styled district with small windows, and ornate architecture. Pulleys are strung from building to building, carrying letters clipped to the wires. Amelia explains that this is the postal district, where they handle messages, letters, packages, and all communications for this part of the galaxy. He watches the colors of envelopes as they glide by. They walk into a large, cathedral-like building where all the pulleys lead to, meeting in this place like moths meet at a flame. He watches as they all travel to the center, where uniformed men and woman and all sorts of species unclip them, and sort them into bins, and clip other onto outgoing pulleys. Amelia pulls up to a counter and writes a letter quickly in a neat scroll and then slides it across the counter.

She turns to him.

"Tell me, Doctor, are you hungry?"

He nods, and offers his arm. "Lead the way?"

She takes it, and put on a serious expression. "I will do my utmost best."

They walk in step to a small noodle house close to her apartment, where a couple immediately approaches them, clucking in another language to Amelia, who smiles, and introduces him, and then converses briefly, before ordering the food. She insists on paying, and they sit at a small table that looks out onto the Etherium, the color of which is a turquoise today, mixed with greens and blues. Slurping at her noodles, she looks at him.

"It's a nice day, today. The fogs set in about this time, so everyone's out because it's good weather. I almost like it better when its grey and cold, I have the street to myself a bit more."

He nods. "So, do storms come up at all?" He's almost finished with his noodle bowl, which was delicious. She orders more for them to take back for dinner later.

"Oh, yes, often. During winter, of course, the winds, and condensation come this way, and we get our own little brand of rainstorm. It's quite interesting, I must say. I didn't think the weather would be so varied, but..."

They walk along the second level of the city, across the bridges and walkways that give the spaceport two stories, sometimes more, and he looks over the edge and see buildings on the underside, hanging on the edges connected by wooden rope bridges and make-shift metal cat-walks.

"It's as if everyone just came with their own material, and made what they could." he comments, and she laughs.

"That is exactly it. I like it, don't you?"

He does. It's a place all its own.

"I have someplace to take you, actually." she says, taking his hand.

They wind through several streets, until reaching another large building, green and rusting. Gold letters spell in six languages the words "Library of Montressor Spaceport". He gapes at her, and sees that she is grinning like a child who has done something very good. He pours over books while she sits in a chair reading until dark falls, and they walk back under the street lamps to her house. They eat the leftovers in the living room as they both tell the other about their childhood, about growing up.

"I was friends with Leland, Jim's father, and Sarah, Jim's mother." he tells her, chewing. "We were the three inseperable friends. Highschool changed everything, though. Sarah married him, but she was only seventeen, and then they had Jim a year later...He felt trapped, I suppose, though I don't forgive what he did."

She nods. "He sounds like a good man, up until that point. That was a horrid thing to do."

"I was hurt, that he left, but I hated him for abandoning Jim, and Sarah. I was his best friend, and it did hurt, to be left behind, but I know, I knew, that they were more important. I don't really think about him very much. What about you? Did you have friends in highschool?"

"No. I was a bit of a loner. Anti-social, would be the term. I hated everything, you see."

"Ah, indeed," he jokes, nodding sagely. "So, not much for friends, then?"

"I...I suppose I scared them. I was the best in my graduating class at the Academy...Youngest to graduate, in the history of the school, too. I can see how they'd hate me, or be intimidated...I didn't much care what they thought, I only wanted to get out, and be a captain," she takes a sip of tea, and frowns. "I have friends, now, of course. Ones I've worked with...But, really, I'm so busy. This..." She gestures to the space between them, her sitting on the carpet, and him on the couch. "...this is something I rarely get. Relaxation is rare, when you are devoted to your profession, yes?"

"Yes, it certainly is." He drinks some of his own tea, and glances at her bookshelf. "So, you like reading, then?"

"Possibly as much as you," she retorts. He laughs. "I'm not much for the academic books, I'm afraid, that's my brother's passion, not mine," she continues. "No, I like fictional books much more, and a bit of poetry...What about you, doctor?"

He stands, gazing at the fraying spines, and the titles. He smiles. "Ah, I like the adventure stories, myself, for personal enjoyment. It's part of my job to read non-fiction, as you say, but...I enjoy all sorts. And--Ah! You have my favorite, here." He holds up a red leather bound book, with gold letters spelling out "The Odessey of Lazarus the Legendary". Her eyes glitter.

"Ah, you love the longest one, I see. That's only one of four volumes, I'm afraid...The others are at my father's house, on Laika Spaceport."

He flips through the book, remembering how he had read this over the summer, in his room for three whole days, so completely lost in the story, and the writing.

They spend the evening talking about their favorite books before going to bed late.

The rest of the visit passes in the same way, seeing sights and eating exotic foods.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's the last day of his visit, and Amelia's lounging in a chair on the very small balcony outside her living room's sliding glass door. The etherium's clouds are a reddish pink, and the endless sky is an swirling mass of oranges, yellows and reds. Sunset. He's sitting with his bare feet swinging over the edge of the small extension, shorts ruffling in the light breeze as he gazes out at the infinite stars, naming in his head the planets and constellations he knows. Amelia sighs contentedly, stretching. He turns to her, and they exchange a smile.

"This has been lovely, you know," he tells her, and means it.

"I'm glad you had a good time. I'm sorry if it was not as exciting as you had hoped. I'm quite tired from the last voyage, and injured, so..."

"No," he assures her. "No, it's been wonderful, I...I had a good time, relaxing. I think we all needed it, you know."

She nods, settling back in her chair, closing her eyes. They share the mutual silence, happy to simply think their own thoughts, but he feels as if he should say something, or do something. He wants more than anything to tell her how she makes him feel, how he feels about her, but fears mixing up his words. He sits in the chair next to her, and touches her arm. She jumps, and looks at him, puzzled.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"I--" he pauses, searching for words. "Capta--no, Amelia. I...I would like very much to, ah... what I mean is, I think you're absolutely beautiful, and perfect, and...I want...I want to be with you, if you...I mean, never mind, I--" She presses fingers to his lips, and smiles at him, amused.

"You are quite adorable, when you struggle over words like that, you know. And flattery gets you nowhere, I'm not nearly as wonderful as you say--"

"You are."

"No, I'm not."

"I'm not perfect, Amelia. You're completely out of my league, you know."

"You're not."

"I am."

She leans forwards, eyeing him seriously. "I think you're wonderful, Doctor. I do not deserve you, you know."

"I feel the same about you, you know," he says, leaning closer to her, his hand sliding into hers. "So, don't you think it's time we got something more than we deserve."

Her lips curl into a sly smirk, and she brings her forehead to his. Their noses touch, and she intertwines her hands with his. "Yes, actually."

"Then..." He takes a deep breath, and closes the distance between their lips. He's never felt so wonderful, never felt more like he belonged in this moment, this time. He slides his hands around her waist, pulling her over onto his lap, and she wraps her arms around his neck, grinning between breaths. He finds himself laughing, and they finally pull away, grinning stupidly.

She leans forwards, resting her head on his shoulder. He smiles.

"So, this is the start of something, isn't it?"

She hits him lightly, and he chuckles. "Of course it is. Honestly, Doctor," she jokes, running a hand up to his hair, threading her fingers through it slowly. "Don't think otherwise."

They kiss again, and would have continued, but are suddenly jolted into reality by a loud cough. They freeze, looking up to see Jonathan in the doorway, grin plastered on his face.

"Well, well. Well, well," he smirks, stroking an imaginary beard. "Such a display. You should be ashamed, Mia. I come here to retrieve my shirts, and I walk in here, and I find you lip-locked with this upstanding man. Really, how dare you play with his heart, mm?"

She lets out a low growl of frustration, and gives Delbert an apologetic look, climbing off him, and cracking her knuckles.

"Jonathan...even if that was a joke, I'm still going to throttle you...Interrupting me...You're the most irritating, nosy, lecherous--"

Jonathan rubs his neck nervously. "Haha, heh. Those are fighting words, little sister. Now, em, I was just joking, Amelia, please don't look at me like that-- AGH!"

He runs back into the house, Amelia following at a jog. Delbert watches them, and then leans back in his chair, linking his hands behind his head, closing his eyes.

Yes, he thinks, this vacation was just what he needed.

AN: Aww, it's so darn sweet, huh? HUH?! pushy

By the way, I'm taking some suggestions now for stories, since this big one is out of the way. I may or may not use em' but I'm totally open to them. Review and leave a suggestion for me!


	8. Like Turning on a Light

AN: For those of you who thought I was finished, I'm not! I'm not!

Seeing the Sights is finished, but I am far from done! Nothing keeps me down. Except a lack of sleep, and depressing songs.

So, here's another (much shorter) chapter for y'all.

Like This: Like Turning on a Light

The Legacy sails into space, gliding through the cool air of space like a leaf on water. Delbert watches from the ships starboard side, leaning over as far as the space suit allows him, eyes glittering with excitement. He can't imagine what this journey will bring...what he could discover. He's interrupted by a polite cough from behind him, and he turns to see the ship's first mate, Mr. Arrow standing before him. He grins nervously.

"Ah, er, h-hello," he stammers. "I was...I was just looking at the view."

The tall, intimidating man walks until he is leaning over the rail, and a small smile crosses his crinkled, rocky features.

"The Captain wanted to speak with you, in her stateroom. She also said that it would be much easier on her eyes if you changed into attire from the last two decades, instead of that medieval suit."

He feels his insides twist in an unpleansant way, and he sighs. He's not been on this ship three hours, and already he can't stand this woman. He imagines she's not much younger than he is, but for some reason, her engergy and confidence makes him feel older. He despises her attitude, and her snappy retorts.

"Is...is she always..." he mutters, leaning over the railing next to the first mate. "...always so...so..." At this, he lets out a cry of infuriation. Arrow chuckles.

"That is exactly what I wondered at first, too," he says, tracing lines in the wooden rail. "She is undoubtedly the best captain I've ever known, but she is...she's difficult to understand, I should say. You will get used to it, I'm sure, Doctor. She seems to like you."

He walks away after that, leaving Delbert to wonder exactly where the man had gotten his information. Had he not seen the captain calling him imbecillic? Or insulting his attire?

Just thinking about made him angry, and he stormed into his small cabin with all the force of a small hurricane, ripping open his suitcase and changing quickly, smoothing back his hair carelessly. He knocked on her door three minutes later, and it swung open to reveal the captain sitting back in her chair at her desk, examining her finely manicured nails. She doesn't look up.

"So, I see you decided to show up, Doctor. Lovely. You certainly exceeded my expectations."

He sits and bites his tongue. He has decided to hate her, but knows not to argue with her. She is the captain, and he can tell from looking at her that she is not pleasant when angry. He simply gives her a quick nod, and a few seconds of eye contact, then returns his gaze to the shining surface of her desk. There is silence and she drums her nails on the papers in front of her for a few seconds before clearing her throat, and standing to pace as she talks. He braces himself for a lecture.

"Doctor," she begins, and there's something tight about her voice that he finds odd. "I believe that I may have come across to you as intimidating, or difficult. I do not mean to be rude to my employers and I...apologize if I offended you. We have to work in close proximity to one another throughout this voyage, as you may know, and I would detest having to fight with you on every thing. I believe would should start this over, perhaps?" She holds out a hand.

He frowns. He can't tell if she's serious or not, but he doesn't want to believe she's lying. He slowly takes her hand, and they shake. She smiles a quick, satisfied smile, and then returns to her seat. He frowns.

"Is that all?"

She looks up, and nods. "Yes, I believe so. Enjoy the rest of the day, Doctor. Tomorrow I will need your help in charting our course of action for the next few weeks. I heard that you are an astrophsyicist, so I assumed you would know a few things about that sort of work. It will give you something to do."

"Ah, yes," he stammers. "Th-that's right. Well, then, I'll, ah, be going."

"Yes. Very good to speak with you, I am glad we could come to an agreement."

He leaves with the burning desire to run to Mr. Arrow and tell him that he understand what he means now. Captain Amelia is the most complicated thing he's ever encountered.


	9. Not a Morning Person

AN: Back again, with another little chapter! YEAH! WOO!

This also takes place very early on in Amelia and Delbert's relationship, about a week or two into the voyage to Treasure Planet.

Like This: A Morning Person

He wakes up to the sound of his alarm clock, and groans, hitting the snooze button and shoving his head under his pillow, willing himself back to sleep. After several minutes of lying there, unsuccessful in this attempt in sleeping for a few more hours, he sits up, hair ruffled, and finally glances at the clock.

4:30 am.

He groans again, and leans over the small bed, pulling his boots out from underneath the raised mattress that serves as his bed on this voyage. His cabin is small, but cozy, even on cold mornings like this one. He shivers, and grabs his maroon coat, buttoning it closed and cursing the day he ever resolved to compete with Captain Amelia.

He initially got the idea to wake up so early when he encountered her in the morning on one of the first days of the voyage to Treasure Planet. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he had been startled awake at the sight of her standing there, fully dressed and awake, already done with breakfast, and sipping tea. Glancing at his watch, he saw that the time was ten in the morning. She raised an eyebrow at his messy clothes (he had awoken with a distinct feeling that he was late for something, for no reason at all), and at the sight of his mussed hair, had broken into a grin that was almost brimming with victorious taunting. He had gotten a feeling that she enjoyed besting him in little things like this, and had since resolved to wake up earlier, someday soon. So, every day since then, he had been waking up a half an hour earlier, in hopes of finding her in a state of tiredness, or in the middle of eating her breakfast. He would then grin in victory, and then walk back to his cabin for a quiet, private gloating session.

But, so far, he had been unsuccessful. Every day since, he has woken up, hair combed and clothes freshly pressed and in perfect condition to find her sitting in her stateroom every morning with that damn cup of tea, grinning at him in an almost innocence that disguises her devious plan. Oh, he's onto her, alright.

Shaking himself into the present, he decides today will be the day. This is the day he'll walk in on her and be able to yell "Ha!". He takes great care in combing his hair, and polishes his glasses. Smoothing any wrinkles in his coat, he gives himself one last look in the mirror before striding down the hallway behind the bridge (where officers and civilian quarters are) to the door at the end. He knocks, and prays for no answer.

The door swings open, and she's there, grinning.

"Well, well," she says, and he can tell she's fighting back a smile. "You're up quite early, doctor. Is there a special occasion, or do you enjoy the morning breeze?"

He can't speak. Can't move, or reply, because she looks the same as she always does, hair smooth, and uniform perfect. Her eyes glitter with amusement, and he's suddenly got the idea that he is the butt end of a joke. She pulls him inside by the arm, and he looks to her desk.

No breakfast tray, no half-read newspaper (he reminds himself there's no newspapers in space), no cup of tea, nothing.

He sits down, and she strides to an alcove at the left side of the room, pouring herself a cup of what he knows is her favorite, Earl Grey, and another. For him?

She hands him the cup, and he looks down. Coffee. How did she...?

"You like coffee, don't you, doctor?" She leans back in her chair (she's rubbing it in his face, he knows it).

"Ahhhh..." he pauses, searching for words. "Yes, yes, I do. Thank you."

He yawns, and suddenly she sets the cup down on her desk, and puts her head in her hands. Her whole body, her shoulders, are quivering. For one moment, he thinks she's crying, and he feels an immediate regret for whatever it is he said. He wants to say sorry, until he realizes she is not crying, but rather, she is laughing.

Her laugh is the only thing ringing about the completely silent world around them, and his stomach sinks.

"What..." he says, through gritted teeth, "Is so funny, captain?"

It takes her forever to calm down enough to answer: "Y-you are, doctor." She then laughs harder, and suddenly erupts in a fit of coughing.

"I'm funny to you?" He feels a burning anger bubbling in his throat, and he suddenly slams the cup of coffee onto her desk. "I do not appreciate this, captain. I am not some...some joke! I...I demand to know what's going on here!"

She stops laughing out loud, instead shaking silently as she stares at him.

"I'm...sorry..." she says slowly, struggling to keep from chuckling. "I...I...can't help it..."

He waits, furious, until she stops five minutes later. Composing herself, she wipes tears from her eyes and then clasps her hands in front of her, resting them on her desk.

"I knew you were trying to wake up earlier than me, doctor."

He suddenly pales. She knew?

"H-how...?"

"You were always so disappointed, when you saw me every morning, and then I noticed you were waking up a half hour earlier each day, so I started waking up about twenty minutes before you did, because I thought your reaction was so...priceless. I'm sorry, if that offended you. I actually only wake up at five thirty, so up until two days ago, I didn't have to change anything. But, I'm surprised you've kept it up so long..."

He's hot with embarrassment and curses himself for being so foolish. Of course she'd know. Of course...

"I...Somehow, I'm not entirely surprised by that, captain."

She leans her head to side, confused. "No?"

He shakes his head. "No...No, I'm not surprised at all. You're too smart for me, I'll give you that."

"I'm not..." she begins, and frowns. "I am do not possess the same sort of intelligence you do, I suppose. You have academic knowledge, and while I do have that, I'm much more experienced dealing with people. Social knowledge, I'd say..." She sips her tea, and looks at him, calculating.

He sits down again, slumping in his chair. He looks back at her, and then smiles weakly.

"I think that's the first compliment you've ever given me."

"Don't come to expect them, they're not something you should take for granted. I can only please one person a day, you know."

He laughs, and takes a drink of coffee.

From that day on, they meet in her stateroom in the morning to simply share a cup of tea (in his case, coffee, mostly). He has come to think of their relationship as something of a friendship, even.

He starts to love her laugh, and her smiles. Then, almost as easily as he had started to hate her, he starts to love the rest of her as well.


	10. List

AN: Yeah, I got to the tenth freaking chapter! Woo! YAY!

does a victory dance

So, to commemorate this occasion, this chapter involves a list with ten things on it!

It came to me while doing English homework (which wasn't good, I get too distracted), so I wrote it right away.

Enjoy!

Like This: List

He's sitting in a meeting between himself, Arrow, the Captain, and several members of the crew. The galley is crowded with crew members, and the captain speaks calmly, with the ease of someone who gives speeches often. She's not quite as cold to him now, now that they have begun to meet in the mornings, but he's found that she is so closed to him, and to the world, it seems, that his questions about her life, and anything remotely personal are met with a curt reply, no smile or emotion.

She rarely shows anything. And his growing desire to see her show something, anything at all, makes him hang on her every word and action.

In that brief moment, when she burst out laughing at his expense (he doesn't mind as much anymore, her teasing him seems to make her very happy), he saw someone else inside her captain's suit, someone entirely different from the captain in front of them all now, talking while she clasps her hands behind her back, face set in a calm, matter-of-fact expression. Looking down, he sees the blank paper from his notebook (he had thought perhaps he would study the Etherium life while on this voyage, but has had no time. Instead, he draw doodles and makes notes of silly things to do.) He picks up his pen, and begins to write.

Ten things about the captain

The title is all he can think of. He knows nothing about her. He suddenly wishes he did know anything at all, wishes with all of his being and it is in this moment he realizes he is falling for her. Swearing loudly at this revelation, he leaves the meeting with everyone staring at him, and goes to his room. He stares at the blank list for the rest of the night. He could not bear to stare at her anymore; the sight makes his stomach twist in a way not entirely unpleasant.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been four months, and he's sitting at his desk in the library at his estate, with Amelia sleeping on the couch, a book on her lap, eyes closed and mouth turned upwards in a small smile.

He is attempting to sort through some of his papers at his desk, which is why she came over in the first place: she was supposed to help him, and keep him company while he sifted through piles of old papers, but she was momentarily distracted when she found the small book, and had sat down. Within ten minutes, she was asleep on the couch.

He couldn't get angry with her, because she had arrived at his home an hour after arriving back from an all-night return voyage from Laika spaceport. She had seemed exhausted, but had insisted upon coming over anyway. Upon seeing him at the door, she had beamed, and wrapped her arms around his middle in a tight hug.

"I did miss you," she had said, muffled because she had pressed her face into his shirt. "It's worse, and worse every time I leave. I blame you for my recent lack of precision; I'm so bent on getting back as fast as I can."

He had laughed at that.

Everything had changed, since the voyage. Jim was preparing himself for his first semester at the Interstellar Academy, Sarah was re-building the inn (with her son's help), and here he was, commissioned to do a school year's worth of lecture series on...well, he hadn't quite figured it out, yet. And then there was Amelia. She had recovered very well from her injuries, and though the two of them had had a horrible fight about how long she would have to stay on shore leave until she could sail again, their relationship had been absolutely wonderful. Amelia had been on about five voyages, one that lasted two weeks, and four others that lasted a few days. It had been a perfect four months, and he felt himself to be at his happiest.

He shuffled a few more papers aside, setting about making a pile of documents for Amelia to go through once she woke up (as punishment, he had decided, for falling asleep on him) when he found the small notebook.

He had found it open to the blank page.

"Ten things about the captain"

He smiled. It was so funny, to see how far they had come since then. He grabbed a pen, and sat down to write.

----------------------------------------------

Amelia woke up a few hours later, blinking her eyes and sitting up slowly. The book on her lap slid to the floor, and she remembered.

"Ah, Delbert!"

She turned, searching for him around the room, but found it to be empty. She felt suddenly extremely horrible for falling asleep on him...But blamed it on his amazingly comfortable couch. It was not the first time she had sat down on it and suddenly woken up later, realizing her mistake.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes, and rolling her shoulders to loosen them, she noticed a piece of paper on the coffee table. Leaning over to look, she saw it was addressed to her.

Amelia:

I left to meet Sarah for lunch; I promised her I would help with choosing window panes. I left this wonderful pile of files and papers for you to sort through, knowing how you love to look through my things, and attempt to organize them.

At this, she snorted. It was true, the state he kept his study in horrified her, but she had given up on cleaning it, discovering that no matter how many things she sorted, they were in messes the next time she came over.

I actually found something interesting on my desk, that I wrote when I first met you. You must know by now (I hope) that I was somewhat irritated with your attitude when we first met, and this list was something I tried to write out, but couldn't. I didn't know enough about you.

Now, looking back, I know too many things about you now! But, I thought perhaps you would like to read it, now that I filled it out.

She frowned, now curious as to what he was talking about. Delbert was a perplexing man; shy and embarrassed one moment, and then sweet and romantic another. It was amusing, and entertaining for her to watch. Opening up the folded piece of paper.

_Ten things about the captain_

_one: She is not prone to showing her emotions to people she does not trust, but when she does, it is like seeing a different person._

_two: She dislikes waking up early on mornings when she doesn't have to. _

_three: She is as clean and organized in her own home as she is with her ship._

_four: When she decides to take extra time, and wear something especially lovely, it takes one's breath away (I know this happens to me)._

_five: Despite all of her secrecy in attempting to keep it from me, she sings very beautifully. But never in front of others. _

_six: She has a sometimes sick sense of humour, and seems to find laughing at my mishaps a favorite hobby._

_seven: Her stubbornness is very frustrating, but she always sees that she has been unfair in the end._

_eight: Apologizing is her least favorite thing, besides her brother._

_nine: No matter what she says, I think she is beautiful._

_ten: She will probably hate me for writing this, but I think that when she's asleep, she looks very adorable._

She hears the door open and close, and hears the voices (Jim, Sarah, B.E.N. and Delbert, of course) and runs into the foyer, clutching the paper. Delbert freezes mid-motion as he removes his jacket, looking her up and down shyly. Sarah stares between them, smiling and Jim looks at it all with casual interest.

She knows she shouldn't, and under any normal circumstances, she would never, but Delbert is one aspect of her life where all other rules don't seem to apply. She runs up to him and kisses him fiercely, and he almost falls over in surprise, finally finding support on the closed double doors. She breaks away, frowning at him.

"No one...would ever get away with calling me adorable," she whispers to him. "But because you are such a hopelessly sweet, ridiculously romantic, absolutely infuriating man, and because I simply adore that, and you, I will forgive your mistake just this one time."

He grins, and leans his forehead against hers.

"I couldn't resist it," he admits.

There's a loud cough, and they suddenly realize that all the others in the room are staring. They break apart, flushed. Sarah claps, and runs up to both of them with arms open, hugging them tightly (much to Amelia's discomfort; she never got over how affectionate Jim's mother was), Jim just laughed, and B.E.N. broke into tears, saying something about "old-fashioned romance".

A few minutes later, they sit together, sorting through the stack of papers he left for her to sort through. She turns to him, and smiles.

"Delbert..." she looks down, thinking hard on what to say. "I just wanted to say...I'm happy, with you. Really happy."

He looks at her, and the genuine affection in her eyes tells him that she is speaking the truth. He feels a sudden swelling feeling in his chest, like his heart is going to burst from too much happiness. He cannot express this feeling in words, so he simply smiles back, taking her hand and kissing her.

He wants to say he is happier than he ever thought he could be, with her. He wants to say so many things, but right now, this is enough.

It is enough.


	11. Rainy Seasons

AN: This one is pretty sad...It's been rainy here, so, this was semi-inspired by getting caught biking home in a thunder storm. ;

Angst angst angst.

I'm assuming Arrow's first name is the same as it was in Treasure Island, and I just gave him a wife cause I thought he should have one.

Enjoy!

Like This: Rainy Season

It's early in the morning when Amelia receives the transmission on her holo-screen, beeping loudly from her desk, insistent. She pulls herself out of bed reluctantly, tired and still sore from the wounds she sustained during the eventful voyage to Treasure Planet. She slides into the office chair, sitting down cross-legged, and hopes that it is Delbert, her very brand new objection of affection. She was instead greeted with the rocky, craggy face of Mrs. Lydia Arrow, Mr. Arrow's wife, and a close friend of Amelia. She acted as the aunt and mother Amelia had never had, always criticizing how thin she was, how she should get married, but of course, it was all out of affection for the young teen aged girl who had come to stay with them on request from Matthew Valefor, Amelia's father, and Arrow's very best friend. On any other occasion, Amelia would have delighted to see the face of Lydia appear on the screen, but with the new knowledge of Arrow's death, Amelia fell immediately silent, and looked down, straining not to show how upset she was, still. From the screen, Mrs. Arrow's face became the picture of comfort, a sad smile playing across her lips, and a soft sigh emanating from her.

"Ah, Amelia, dear, look at me," she coaxed, soothing. "Come on now, look up, you look so completely terrible when you're sad."

Amelia reluctantly lifted her head, gazing with an expression of pained remorse, and sorrow, and guilt.

"It-it was all my fault, Lydia, and I'm so, so, so sorry, I--"

The woman shooed the apology away as if it were smoke.

"Nonsense. My dear Samuel knew the risk, the danger of his work. He believed in you so strongly, Amelia, I know it. He was strong in that belief, always, I think. Even...at the end. I'll miss him of course, bless that man, but, life must continue. That is exactly how he would have wanted it."

Hearing the words she's been repeating in her head over and over from Arrow's own wife is so comforting to Amelia she almost forgets herself, and smiles weakly.

"I...I thought exactly the same. After I had a good cry, of course, and recked my stateroom. I'm a mess, I'm afraid."

"That's more nonsense."

"It isn't. I--I even cried in front of this complete stranger...but, he was so...he understood, I think. He's very perceptive, when he likes to be, Delbert is...He's very odd."

Lydia clears her throat loudly, and chuckles. "Ahh, so you've got a man, mm?"

"N-no! No, I--" she pauses, thinking. "Well," she smiles. "Yes, I suppose I do. But, he's different, from the others."

Lydia is practically beaming now, hands clasped is happiness for this young woman who she sees as almost a daughter.

"I am so happy for you! You simply have to bring him over for dinner, so I can meet him. I won't embarrass you, I promise."

"I doubt you could, anymore. Jonathan took care of that."

"Your brother? Oh, he is a sweet man, even if you don't believe it. He visits me, for lunch, sometimes. He walks to the inn, and has soup, and compliments me. Flatterer that he is, he's very handsome. I'm surprised he's not married yet, you know."

Amelia frowns at the thought. Jonathan was handsome, a trait he inherited from both his mother and father, but he is incredibly shy, when it comes to women he is attracted to. Amelia hopes for the best, for her brother, even if he is a colossal pain in her side. She turns her attention back to Lydia's image on the screen.

"Now, what was it that you wanted to talk about, anyway? You never call unless you need to tell me something."

Lydia's face switches to an expression of sadness. She bites her lip, and frowns slightly, clearly upset.

"Ah, yes, well, we're holding a service. For Samuel, I mean. I would think you would like to come...but if it's too painful for you, I understand, dear. He cared about you very much, and you cared about him. You've been friends for so long...I wouldn't be the slightest bit angry with you, if you couldn't bear to attend...I'm not much for funerals, myself, you see, I wouldn't go, if I weren't his wife. I don't like all that sadness, I'd much rather celebrate his life, than mourn him so much."

Amelia feels a sinking feeling wash over her, and she almost says no, because she knows she's going to cry, if she goes, knows it'll be horrid, but then she remembers Arrow, remembers everything he did...She makes up her mind quickly, after that.

"Lydia."

"Yes, dear?"

"I would very much like to go. And...I was hoping...I could give a speech. I know he would have done the same."

She looks at Amelia, and her eyes well up with tears.

"Bless you, dear. Of course, of course."

--------------------------------------------------------

She paces her room for what feels like hours, trying to think of something to do. She has found grieving over Arrow unbearable. She cannot sit still, and feel sorry for what has happened, but she can't bear to pace about like this, doing nothing. So, she ponders what to do in concern to this funeral.

She never thought Arrow to be the type to want people sobbing and crying over him, adorning a stage with flowers in dedication to him. She can almost imagine his look of disapproval: so many people giving him silly things like that, crying and moaning. He would have said it was a waste of valuable time...and ask why he had received flowers. He had never liked them.

She remembers for her twenty-first birthday, he had given her a small arrangement of flowers, awkwardly, and she had laughed, and told him that these flowers symbolized the birth of a child.

"You're still a child," he had snapped at her, ruffling her hair. She had grinned, and thanked him anyway.

She bites her lip, and stops dead in the center of her bedroom, biting on her thumb, deep in thought.

She can't quite say what it is, but something compels her at that moment to call Delbert. She slides into the office chair once more, turning the screen back on and selecting his name from the list of contacts. The blinking orange circle indicates the dialing up of the resident. The screen flickers, and Delbert appears, smiling.

"Amelia."

She smiles, brightened by his voice and face. "Delbert."

He rubs his neck and looks at her, inquisitive. "How are you doing this evening?"

She's silent then, suddenly struck with an idea.

"Delbert..." she begins, running a hand through her red hair out to clear it from her face.

He gives her a teasing look. "Yes, Amelia, we've covered that already. What's wrong? You look sort of...out of sorts."

Breathing deeply, she collects her thoughts, and speaks.

"I don't believe we ever addressed what conspired between us directly after Arrow's death...I know that was wrong of me. I really, truly appreciate you and thank you for being there for me...after...after...Anyway. I was very upset. I didn't want to speak about it, or what you did for me. Comforting me. So...thank you."

Smiling kindly, he touches the screen with his hand. "You're very welcome. I'm so sorry, for what happened."

"But, that's not what I wanted to ask," she cuts in, wishing to say it before she chokes up. "H-his funeral is going to be a week from today...And...I wanted...to ask if you would come with me. I-I understand, of course, if you don't feel comfortable with that, you didn't know him, but...I...I..."

I need you.

She can't say it. Looking down, head in her hands, she sighs.

"Amelia..." he's whispering, soothing. "Amelia, look at me."

She looks up, eyes shining. His face is set in a serious, but determinedly strong look. He leans towards the screen, and looks her in the eye.

"I would be honored to go with you."

She sniffs, wiping unfallen tears from the corners of her eyes, smiling weakly in thanks. He understands...she thinks, loving him for it, for being so wonderful. He blows her a kiss, and they sign off.

She really does need him, she thinks, sitting at her kitchen table later with soup and a mug of tea. He takes all her fears, and anger, and nerves, and just melts it away. He seems to know exactly what she thinks, exactly what she will say. She's never loved anyone quite the way she loves him, and they've only known each other for three months now. She can't bring herself to tell him yet.

Sipping the tea, she looks out her kitchen window at the blinking stars and thinks of how lucky she is.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

It's pouring rain the day of the funeral, and when she wakes up in the morning, she can only think of cursing the fates for being so typical.

Grey skies swirl above the horizon as the shuttle from Crescentia takes her to Montressor. Dressed in a black dress, she wears her black coat over it, shivering despite the thick fabric. The cold is unbearable.

Looking out of the glass window pane, she thinks of all things except Arrow, and this day and death and sadness. She traces the lines of the droplets hitting the glass, trickling down in an unpredictable pattern until they reach the bottom, pooling into a thin line of wet on the window's bottom.

There's a slight jolt as the shuttle hits its tracks, sliding now on a set path, like a train, to the station. A female announcer speaks over the crackling speaker to tell them they have twenty minutes until docking. Amelia grips the handle of the umbrella a little tighter, and walks off the shuttle into the open station. The vast emptiness of Montressor's surface is astounding to her, in this weather, on this day.

She opens the umbrella, stepping out onto the muddy roadway, which explodes with droplets hitting the ground, pooling into more puddles, flowing over the soil, pulsing like it is alive and breathing.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

She grips his hand tightly as they both step up to the two story home where Arrow, and Amelia herself once lived. It is on top of a small hill near the edge of Montressor's one large city, which contains the University, and the Interstellar Academy. Located in the Academy quarter, the small house is only a few streets away from the school itself.

Amelia and Delbert share her umbrella, and Delbert hangs back just a little as Amelia reaches up and knocks on the door once, twice. It opens slowly, and Lydia is there, somber in her black dress and hat. She smiles warmly at Amelia, hugging her tightly and pulling them both inside. She turns her attention to Delbert with a sly grin, glancing from one of them to the other, and their linked hands. Amelia coughs quietly.

"Lydia..." she says, pointing to Delbert. "This is Delbert. I...I hope it would be alright if he..." She stops, and then points to Lydia. "Delbert, this is Arrow's wife...Lydia Arrow."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am. Your husband seemed to be a very good man, from what I knew of him. I'm very sorry for your loss." He holds out his hand, all seriousness and sincerity.

Lydia eyes him, looking surprised. She nods approvingly, shaking Delbert's hand, and guiding them into the small restaurant area.

They're the only ones there, and they sit at a table, Lydia coming to and from the kitchen serving them drinks, and offering food which they both politely refuse. For about fifteen minutes, they sit in silence. Finally, Lydia announces that it's time to go, and they all rise at once, walking in a small group to the cemetery. In the small reception hall, about six or seven officers are there, and a few teachers from the Academy. Some of Lydia's friends are there, middle-aged women who are silently crying, and who give Arrow's wife tight hugs and words of comfort. She does not cry. Delbert stands next to Amelia, by her side as she shakes hands with some of the officers, talking curtly to them before choosing two chairs three rows from the front. Lydia comes over, and whispers:

"No, no, you both sit with me."

Amelia begins a protest, but stops when she sees the look she's being given. Nodding, and giving the woman a tight hug, they join her in the front row.

The small raised stage has a picture of Arrow at his own graduation from the Academy. He's younger, with a young smile and hopeful eyes, wise beyond his years even then. He's got his arm around a young woman who is obviously the woman who became his wife. She is all smiles and laughs. The wind blows his graduation uniform, and they stand, the two of them frozen in time. Small flower arrangements stand on either side, with a podium on the far left.

The carpet is a sickly grey green.

The ceremony starts with the owner of the cemetery coming forwards to offer words of condolences, and a few small quotes. He then stands to the side.

A man who was classmates and friends with Arrow comes forward, and talks about how he knew him. He reads a poem, one of their favorites. Amelia doesn't cry.

One other officer comes forward and talks about Arrow's achievements, his successes and his career, complimenting him on his fine conduct, and moral character. Amelia doesn't cry, but by this time, Lydia is

Finally, Amelia stands.

There's so much she could say. What is there to say? She stands, looking out at the back of the room, and all the empty chairs. It doesn't matter, she thinks, how many of us are here. She knows what she needs to say, now. Gripping the podium on both sides, she glances briefly at Delbert, who smiles softly in encouragement.

"My name is Amelia Valefor. I'm a captain, formally of the Royal Navy. But, I'm not here to talk about the Navy."

She clears her throat.

"When I was fifteen, I had lost most hope of becoming a captain. It had always been my dream, but...family...situations made it difficult for me to leave. I wasn't allowed to leave. I met Arrow there, at my family's house, in the solitary room. I...I hated everything, then. I wouldn't believe in anyone, or myself. And...I was lying there, and...he just pulled me to my feet, and dragged me out. He said, 'Get up. You're going to die like this if you can't change.' So I did. He took me into his home, welcomed me into his family, and watched over my education at the Academy. It wasn't easy...at first, changing into the person I wanted to be. I was...violent, sometimes. I got into brawls, and he'd yell at me. But Arrow had this way of making you want to succeed. He hated to see you never even try. You wanted to try. You wanted to make him proud, and for this, and all his guidance, I will say he was like a second father. More of a father, than I ever had."

She pauses, and realizes she's crying now, but she isn't shaking, and she can't stop now.

"He...He was my best friend. He was always there, even when I quit the Navy, and became a captain for hire. I don't even know why he did it all, for me. I suspect it was because he cared about me, and saw me as a daughter, but Arrow wasn't prone to affectionate displays. But, he always knew when I was having trouble with something, or when I was worried. He knew me very well. Maybe even better than I know myself."

"I don't claim to know him as well as that. Three months ago...He was adjusting the rigging on one of the sails of my ship during a solar storm, and was killed by a mutinous pirate. I blamed myself, for allowing him to go up there, but I know he would have called me foolish for thinking that. I know...he wouldn't have blamed me. In the end...if there is a better place for people, after you die...I know for certain he's there, because he deserves that rest, after all I put him through. I will miss him terribly...And...I never got to tell him...how grateful I was...to him, for doing all of that, just for me...A complete stranger, some violent girl...I am eternally grateful, for everything he did for me."

She gulps, and leans forwards a little. "Th-thank you."

There's loud clapping from all the sections, and she sits down shakily, gripping Delbert's hand immediately. He's whats holding her to the ground, holding her down...Lydia grips her other hand, and whispers through tears a quiet "thank you". It is only two words, but it satisfies Amelia.

They gather around the headstone, which has no body to bury beneath it, and everyone lays down flowers. Amelia kneels, and presses her forehead to the cold, wet stone.

"A thousand thank-you's for you, my friend."

She rises, and Lydia sighs, wiping away tears and telling Amelia over and over how wonderful the speech was.

They eat lunch at the house, on Lydia's insistence.

Sitting there, Lydia finally looks up from her homemade purp salad and stew and looks at Amelia.

"Dear...we musn't be so somber. Samuel hated it when you were sad. He hated it when anyone was sad. He would have wanted, more than anything, to see you happy."

Amelia's eyes slide to Delbert, and she thinks how lucky she is to have him. She nods. Lydia was right. He had even mentioned, during the voyage to Treasure Planet.

She had been sitting there, still chuckling about the doctor, and how easy he was to tease, when Arrow leaned forward, teasing smile on his own face, and she frowned. She knew to always be cautious, when he wore that silly grin.

"What is, Arrow?," she had asked. "You're making me nervous, with that smile."

Arrow had chuckled. "You fancy him."

"Who?"

"The financier."

"Absolutely not."

"You do."

"Never."

"I'm afraid so."

"Arrow," she had told him, feigning the patient aura of a school-teacher as she explained to him. "I will say this, and make it perfectly clear: I do not, will not, and could not fancy Doctor Delbert Doppler. Is that clear?"

He had straightened, and nodded curtly. "Crystal, captain."

"Good."

They had spent several minutes more in silence before Arrow spoke again.

"Captain?"

"Yes," she turned, looking at him. "What is it?"

"May I walk you down the aisle, when the two of you marry?"

She flushed angry red. "Arrow!"

He laughed again, and she sulked angrily, glaring at him from time to time to remind him of her dislike. He touched her shoulder, and coughed.

"But in all seriousness, Amelia..."

She listens now, because he only calls her by her first name in times of great importance.

"...I want you to be happy. My job would be done, if I knew you were happy."

She looks at him, and gives him a small smile before punching him lightly.

"Sentimental fool." She scolds, and returns to her work.

They know both understands.

They spend the rest of the lunch time telling Lydia all about Treasure Planet, narrating it from start to finish, then regaling old stories about Arrow, and Amelia's days at the Academy.

They leave in the evening, thanking her for everything, and wishing her condolences. Before they exit, she pulls Amelia to her, and whispers:

"That man is one to keep. And he adores you."

Amelia gives her a hug, and nods her agreement.

------------------------------------------------------

The rain has slowed, falling in a light mist now. Amelia and Delbert walk arm in arm through puddles and mud spots.

"That was a good speech, you know," he says, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

She shakes her head. "I was sobbing half way through it. I look a mess."

"You're beautiful."

She hits him on the shoulder. "You're just flattering me to get a kiss. Or something like, 'Oh, Delbert!'. Ha!"

"I'm not, it's true," he insists, grinning, "Though, a kiss would be nice..."

They stop, umbrella between them, and he kisses her, hands going in small circles on her back. She looks up at him, chin on his chest.

"Delbert."

"Hmm?"

She leans near his ear, standing on her toes, and whispers:

"I love you."

He sputters a gasp of disbelief, and then grabs her shoulders, eyeing her as if she's crazy. She laughs.

"I'm not kidding, honestly."

He's positively beaming now, and he sweeps her up in a hug that lifts her off the ground.

"I love you, Amelia. I have since...since...I don't know when."

They grin at each other, and she knows they look so silly, but doesn't care in the slightest.

She wonders what Arrow would have said, seeing her walking with Delbert through the rain, a silly fool in love...And her, being the famous Captain Amelia, ice queen.

Thinking about it, she doesn't think he would mind in the slightest.


	12. Like This

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm not bothering using the politically correct term (Happy Holidays) because...Well, I don't care.

Maybe that's just my inner hippie. :3

I'm very sorry for not updating in sooooo long. This chapter is...Well, I pretty much hate it, because it was written in little bursts, and it's bad. At least, I think it is. But I wanted to update, and add this Christmas story to the fic, because of the season. So, um...if it's very terrible, I apologize.

I'm actually including the poem that inspired this fic's title: _Like This, _by the poet Rumi, who is fantastic.

Disclaimer (that I've been forgetting...oops): I own not this wonderful movie, Treasure Planet.

Twelve: Like This

When someone asks you

how the perfect satisfaction of all our sexual wanting

will look, lift your face

and say,

**Like this.**

When someone mentions the gracefulness

of the night sky, climb up on the roof

and dance and say,

**Like this?**

If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is,

or what "God's fragrance" means,

lean your head toward him or her.

Keep your face there close.

Like this.

Sitting in his kitchen, Delbert stares into his cup of coffee for a few moments before adding in the cream and sugar. He's not sure why he stops, not sure exactly what has motivated him to hold the silver spoon filled with the tiny granules of sugar, but he pauses just the same, with a feeling that whatever it is that had stopped him is going to bring about something profound.

It seems like the entire world is silent. The marble floor of his house is absolutely freezing cold, and even with his slippers on, and his thickest pair of socks, he can feel the cold creeping up out from the ground, through the soles of his feet and up in his bones. He shivers, and then, finally deciding that whatever made him pause is not coming to him after all, he proceeds to make his coffee, and make to sit down at the table. He stares outside at the flurry of white passing by his window like the flowing sea, and can see (if he squints) the outlines of trees whipping in the strong winds of what has become Montressor's biggest blizzard of the season.

They've been trapped inside for three days now, freezing cold despite fireplaces and heating units and warm clothes, doing whatever they can to keep from going crazy. It doesn't help that Christmas is tomorrow. While he and Sarah may not be ecstatic about the upcoming holiday, the three other household guests seem to talk of nothing else. Jim, B.E.N. and Morph seem to practically buzz with the excitement of this season, and all that comes with it, especially...presents, presents, presents.

Sighing, Delbert takes a large gulp of his coffee.

Of all his luck, there had to be a cataclysmic storm. Normally, he would have been happy to see the new snow, and to wake up to the silence of the world after a huge blizzard, but now...now, he was completely miserable.

Four days ago, just as the storm started, he had gotten a call from Amelia.

They had been together for five months now, and even now, every time they got to spend time with each other, he could feel a swelling of his heart, and a happiness so complete washed over him. He had been mulling over inviting her for Christmas, but until this call, had found himself torn in his decision. He hadn't wanted to come off too forward, but he didn't want to let her down, if she had expected him to invite her. Naturally, when she called, he found himself lost in thought, and as a result, found himself tripping over his words.

"Delbert," Amelia said, after the third occurrence, "Is there something on your mind?"

"A-ah, no. I suppose I was just...thinking."

There's an exasperated sigh from the other end of the line. "Whenever you're feeling nervous about something, or you're quite preoccupied, you seem to slip over your words more than usual. Now, it's been exactly six minutes since we started talking. There is clearly something on your mind, darling."

He smiles weakly. She knew him that well? Running a hand nervously through his hair (it's funny, how she makes him nervous, even on the phone), he sits down in an armchair to collect his thoughts. Suddenly, he begins by telling her everything, about how he has been nervous all this week trying to decide whether or not to ask her to come to his house for Christmas.

"Oh, Delbert," she says, between laughs, "I'd absolutely love to."

"R-really?" Relief washes over him.

"Of course. Although...I'm quite surprised you'd think I'd be angry if you didn't invite me. You're the first one to ever ask me to come for Christmas."

"Really? Why would that be, I wonder...?"

"I'm probably the last girl anyone would want their son to bring home."

"That's not true."

"That's very sweet of you, but I'm afraid so. Is your mother going to be there as well...?" She ends it on a question, and he realizes she knows very little about his own family, or parents.

"No, no, she usually goes on vacation to some warm, tropical beach for the entire winter season."

"Lovely. Although...There's a storm coming, you know."

"A storm?" He stares out the window, a feeling of dread rising up in his stomach. Sure enough, as he looks outside, snowflakes are falling in torrents now, and the wind whirls them about, almost hinting that a huge storm is coming. He groans. "No...That's so unfair."

Amelia chuckles, and he can almost picture her, sitting cross-legged on her couch, wrapped in blankets with a smile on her face, head tilted to support the phone.

"It certainly is, although I am going to simply guess, and say that my reaction to this new development is a bit more mature than yours, wouldn't't you say?"

Sighing, he leans back in the chair. "Well, yes, but...but! It's just my luck, to have a storm come..."

"Ahhh, poor Delbert...I will miss you. I'm still giving you your present, as soon as I can, though, trust me."

"You already got me something? I feel awful...I haven't gotten anything for you yet."

"The idea just occurred to me. So...I will see you as soon as I can. Alright?"

Her voice is soft, and something about talking to her has made him a little less nervous than he had been before.

"Alright. Have a good Christmas, then..."

"It will not be nearly as good as it would have been. But, I'll do my very best, even if the only one coming to my house was going to be Jonathan..."

"I love you."

"And I love you. I'll call, if the lines aren't damaged. Goodbye Delbert."

There's the finality of the "click", and then there's nothing left.

The storm did get worse, and the lines were damaged, just as she had said, and two weeks later, here he was. Finishing his coffee, he stands and sees Sarah is coming down the stairs, dressed up in her bathrobe and slippers. He smiles.

"Ah, so it seems you and I thought alike. Slippers and a bathrobe don't help, though, I think...It's freezing."

Sarah shivers violently as a response, and slides up next to him, pouring herself a cup of coffee. After taking a small sip, she nods.

"It's horrible. I hope Jim's warm enough...I had to get up in the middle of the night and get myself an extra blanket. You were okay, weren't you?"

"Ah, I was alright," he says, pulling out plates from the cupboard. "I wouldn't worry about Jim, he has plenty of blankets in his room. B.E.N. brought them up to him yesterday while you were reading. Something about not letting him freeze..."

Sarah rolls her eyes, and he laughs. B.E.N., while charming and enthusiastic, could be grating on one's nerves. Although, in this case, it seems the robot had been helpful after all.

The two of them make scrambled eggs and toast, with hot cocoa. Jim stumbles out of bed three hours later, hair mussed, rubbing his eyes.

They spend the day reading, or in Jim's case, studying for the entrance exam to get into the Interstellar Academy (despite Amelia's recommendation letter, in order to enter at the semester, he still needs to take the test).

He spent the night struggling to get to sleep, but found he couldn't.

What was Amelia doing right now, he wondered?

Finally, after hours of tossing and turning, he falls into a fitful sleep.

---------------------------------------------------------

There's this loud, irritating tapping at his windows, and it is this that wakes him up, at first. Pulling the covers and the pillows over his head, he squeezes his eyes shut, doing his best to block out that damned tapping...

Tap tap tap tap tap.

"Arrrgggh!" He sits up, furious. "It's not fair, it's just not fair!"

This was the last straw, and he leaps out of bed, sprinting to the large windows that open like doors onto a small balcony. Disregarding the freezing cold, and so distracted, he doesn't't even realize that it isn't snowing anymore, he walks right into an ankle deep layer of snow, in bare feet.

He lets out a yell, finding nothing outside and because of the incredible shock of the icy snow. Gritting his teeth, Delbert makes it to the balcony's edge, leaning over the railing, and looking left and right.

"Nothing. ARRGGH!"

Whirling back inside, he closes the doors to outside, and makes to get back in bed, when...

Tap tap tap tap tap.

"No. No no no no." He slowly turns back to the window, fuming.

The sight is almost enough to make up for this.

Amelia is standing outside, a messenger bag slung around her shoulders, and a scarf wound around her neck. She's grinning broadly, tapping with her perfectly manicured nail on his window.

He's at the window in seconds, beaming. Tilting her head to the side, she nods to him to open the doors.

They're open, and he forgets, again, about the cold, pulling her inside and kissing her.

She wraps her arms around him, pulling them closer to together.

It's at least a minute until they pull away, and he's stammering.

"H-how...how did you?"

She shrugs. "Oh, I've done this loads of times, actually. You, being the forgetful sort, never gave me a key to your house, so I've always climbed in through here. It's usually unlocked, though. Anyway...I just climb up the ivy vines, and then I can get to the roof. Which is where I was when you came outside. I was feeling a bit humorous, so I wanted to see what you'd do."

He pouts. "I've been quite upset, you know. After all...I missed having you here for Christmas. I have been feeling as if the entire world is against me. And your tapping on the window didn't help, so..."

"Poor dear." She's teasing now. "Anyway, Happy Christmas, Delbert. And I have an actual present for you, but...there's one I could give you right now."

He leans over her shoulder, looking about. "Ah? What is it?"

Frowning, Amelia shakes her head. "You're quite dim, sometimes, dear. Honestly..."

Grinning in a way that makes him nervous, she shrugs out of her coat in one motion while unwrapping her scarf, all while pushing him towards his bed.

"Oh," he stammers. "Ah, er..."

Pressing a finger to his lips, she leans over him, pulling him into another kiss.

---------------------------------------------------------

It's about two hours later, when he wakes up to find himself alone again. He sighs.

"Probably just a dream, I suppose..."

But then, he sees a small present, wrapped in red paper in a meticulous way, addressed with a label in hand writing that he instantly recognizes. Smiling, he sits up, reaching for the square package.

The card only says:

Merry Christmas Delbert.

He frowns, unwrapping the gift carefully, to reveal a book, old and weathered. It's got gold print on its cover, fading, with a small picture of a sailing ship on its front and spine. It's a first edition copy of the Tales of the Deep Etherium, his favorite fictional book.

How did she...?

Smiling, he thanks the fates above for bringing this woman into his life. He doesn't know how she does it...but he loves her all the same.

He comes down for breakfast, a few minutes later to a smirking Sarah, who elbows him lightly, and hands him a plate of pancakes, eggs and bacon. He finishes quickly, and opens his mouth to ask a question to Sarah, who looks over the paper, and smiles slyly.

"They're all outside, if you wanted to know. You're having a merry Christmas after all, huh?"

He flushes before giving her a light nudge, and then pulls on his own coat, stepping out into a sea of white snow.

There's already three snowmen lined up in his front courtyard, one large robotic looking one, a large sculpted Captain Flint, and a cat, complete with twigs for whiskers.

Delbert turns in a slow circle, cautious.

It's much too quiet. Where are they? He's facing the snow figures again, and he lets out a startled yell.

From behind the sculptures step what can only be their creators, Amelia, Jim and Ben, armed to the teeth with snowballs.

"Morning, Doc! Merry Christmas!" Ben shouts, waving jovially as his two companions wind their arms back and hurl icy snow at Delbert, who's already making for the house.

He never makes it, and hours later, when they all come inside, it's him who is most soaking and cold, head soaked with freezing snow.

When everyone else is in bed, Amelia sits next to him on the couch, grinning.

"How did you like your present?"

He leans his head on top of hers, slipping an arm around her shoulder. "I loved it. Both presents."

She laughs, kissing him on the forehead. "I'm glad."

"I have a present for you, you know."

She raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Pulling the gift out of his pocket, he watches her expression as he hands it to her. He smiles, placing it in her hands.

"Open it."

She unwraps it even more carefully than he opened her gift, and utters a small noise upon pulling the paper away to reveal a small box.

"Delbert...You didn't have to--"

"I did. You are absolutely worth it. Now open it, will you?"

She lifts the lid slowly, and she looks up at him, face full of genuine surprise.

It's a necklace on a silver chain, ending in a red circular stone, with a carved star in its center. She shakes her head, and kisses him gently, leaning near his ear.

"Thank you, Delbert. I love it."

"I'm glad you do. I spent quite some time choosing it. You're hard to find a gift for. I wasn't sure if you'd like jewelry..."

"Ah, what's that supposed to mean, Delbert Doppler? Are you implying that simply because of my profession, I wouldn't like something like a necklace?"

"Ah, no, no, I...I..." He sighs. "You're very cruel, sometimes, you know that? Teasing me like that."

Eyes sparkling, she buries her face in his shirt front, giving a happy sigh.

"I know, but I can't resist. I just can't bring myself to stop, you see, because I find it too adorable when you stumble over your words like that. I'm sorry for being so completely horrid. Now...I'm quite tired. And since you seem to be available, I'm using you as a pillow and heat source. I don't care if you mind, either, because I'm not allowing you to move."

Laughing, he tells her he doesn't mind at all.

Not at all.

_When someone quotes the old poetic image_

_about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,_

_slowly loosen knot by knot the strings_

_of your robe._

**Like this.**

_If anyone wonders how the gods raised the dead,_

_don't try to explain the miracle._

_Kiss me on the lips._

**Like this.**

_When someone asks what it means_

_to "die for love" point_

**here.**

_I am a sky where spirits live._

_Stare into this deepening blue,_

_while the breeze says a secret._

**Like this. **

Happy Christmas to everyone!


	13. incriminate

AN: Hey guys, I'm alive! Uhh, I'm mostly posting this because LadyEmilia has been asking me to write more. Plus, it's summer time, and I was inspired!

There's a Battlestar Galactica reference in here somewhere, kudos to those who see it.

Enjoy!

* * *

Delbert can't really look directly at her, so he's opted for staring at his shoes instead, studying each buckle, the prevading layer of brown dust from walking upon Montressor's surface, the slightly worn away area above his big toe that will soon become a hole. He tries to force himself to find it interesting, but finds he can't, not knowing she's probably perched in that captain's chair like she's some sort of queen, head thrown back, her red hair lit up from the Etherium's daylight shining through each window pane.

She clears her throat, which is his cue to look up and try his very best not to seem like he's staring at her, at her face and her fingers, interlocked over one knee as she sits cross ways in the chair, legs draped over one arm. Times like these, he sees the feline characteristics in the way she's leaning over the other armrest, eyes half-closed, draped across the entire seat without a care in the world. Her coat's unbuttoned, her gloves sit on her desk, and her hair is swept back from her face.

"Doctor," she informs him, "You are making me sweat just by _looking _at that outfit. How can one possibly endure this heat in that...that...sweater?" She says _sweater_ as if it's a foul word, her face pinched up and disgusted, almost.

He's not entirely sure how he should respond; he's been on this voyage for a whole month, but the Captain still perplexes him at every turn, each day. Is she mocking him, or simply making conversation? He opts for the latter, always the passive one, and tells her:

"Well, I, I'm not sure, Captain. I suppose I just don't think much about the heat."

She sits up, eyes reflecting a sort of sick delight, as she asks, mocking, "Ah, so, it's all psychological, then. Very good, Doctor. You are an example to all of us."

Delbert's cheeks flush, and now he _can_ feel the heat from the windows, the square of sunlight burning directly upon him. The Captain seems to notice his genuine embarrassment, because when she speaks next, her tone is much softer, more sincere.

"Do you want anything to drink, before we discuss the route changes? I can make iced tea, if you like."

He sits down in the chair across from her, sliding his hands back forth over his file folder with his notes and charts. Whenever she does this, he's disoriented, thrown completely off balance. This is why she frustrates him. He'd much rather she choose to be cruel or kind to him, not one and then another all in the course of a few minutes.

Regardless, he brightens.

"Ah, uh, yes. Yes please, that would be lovely."

Her green eyes follow his hands to his collar, where he's undoing the top buttons on his shirt. A smirk graces her features, as if in victory, and then she stands, crossing towards a cabinet and pulling out two glasses and a tray of ice.

"The tea is a bit old, I'm afraid," she says, as the ice cubes clink in the bottom of the glass. "From this morning. So, it's already gone cold..."

"That's all right, thank you."

The cup feels like heaven in his palms, the coolness traveling up his arms, soothing his nerves. He takes several sips, then adjusts his glasses.

It's only then he notices her.

She's staring at him, chin resting in her hands, training her gaze on his face as he lifts the cup to drink again, a look of fascination upon her face equal to the interest of the gaze with which he looks at her when he thinks she isn't looking.

His heart thumps in his chest, and he begins to talk of the asteroid field he has found is blocking their direct course to the planet Caprica. The Captain is pulled out of her reverie, picking up her own glass and nodding in understanding as she takes a long swig, shaking off the silence and quiet in favor of business.

There's an imprint of her lips in the condensation of her glass, the only evidence of their shared habit of looking too long, too intensely.


	14. rivers in egypt

AN: Kind of OC, sorry...short too.

* * *

Arrow shuts and locks the door behind him, turning on Amelia to gaze at her pointedly.

"What?" she asks. "What's that look for?"

His brow furrows, a slow, triumphant smile emerging, and he points at her with one craggy finger.

"You like that Doctor," he tells her, sounding particularly self-satisfied, all pride and girlish glee. She wants to tell him he is acting like a woman, and when did they switch roles, she hadn't been informed that she had suddenly been the one to act her age, but she doesn't say any of that. Instead, she feels something hot bubbling up from her stomach, and, without re-thinking it, she cries out, much louder and with more protest than is necessary:

"I do _not_ like him!"

Immediately afterwards in the silence that follows this, she purses her lips, glaring at him as he pulls himself up and puffs out his chest, obviously not convinced. She doesn't blame him...even she feels the insincerity in her statement, although she pushes this thought back with all the force in her body.

"Arrow, please," Amelia says, and there's an almost whine to her voice, "I don't. He's so, so..."

"Charming," Arrow offers.

"Yes, he---no! No, that is not...oh, honestly, you're too much. Really, be professional. He's simply my employer, all right? And since we're going to---" and here her voice lowers "---Treasure Planet, it's safe to assume he's quite insane. And, he's a doctor, completely inexperienced, not my type..."

But now she's off again, rambling about him, and all her First Mate does is take a small sip of tea raising his eyebrows at her. She throws up her hands, rolling her eyes, resigning herself to a voyage's worth of teasing and prodding and obnoxious, interrupting coughs that have nothing to do with being sick.


End file.
